17
ELIAS
It's seven pm, and I'm stretched out on my bed in my boxers, catching up with game highlights when my phone rings. Celine's name flashes on my screen.
"Whatup?"
She snorts. "Is that your way of saying hello?"
"Are you calling to bust my balls, or do you want something?"
"Nice." The accompanying huffing sound makes me smile. "I need your help."
"This is becoming a habit, Celine. Have you forgotten I'm not your boyfriend?"
"Ugh. Elias. Seriously. You are not boyfriend material. But you are my fuck buddy, and as far as I can tell, you enjoy our little games, so maybe you should listen instead of being snarky."
"Fuck buddy?"
"Friend with benefits? Booty call? What would you call it?"
"Pussy," I say, knowing it's going to piss her off. I like Celine when she's riled up. Plus, her snideness about my boyfriend abilities pisses me off.
"Fuck you."
"I'm nearly naked, Celine. If that's what you want, you know where I am."
Her frustrated growl amuses me so much I bring my fist to my mouth and bite down. After a few seconds of pause and a few audible deep breaths, she changes tack.
"Please, Elias, can you help me with my class? My test is tomorrow."
"Come over, but I'm warning you now. I'm not putting on any clothes." I cup my dick which has stirred and stiffened at the words pussy and naked. It’s so easily aroused.
"I can't. I'm at my sister's babysitting again. Aiden's mom is in the hospital, so they've both visited."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, frowning. "But are you seriously calling to ask me to drive over and help you?"
"I'm seriously asking that. Forget asking, I'm begging. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. They're going to kick me out, and then I won't be around for any more booty calls."
The desperation in her voice is real, and although I like to pretend to be an asshole, when a friend is in need, I can never say no.
Groaning, I slide my legs off the edge of the bed and reach for my discarded sweatpants. "Message me the address."
"You're an angel," she squeals. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"
"No."
I hang up, trying to find a clean shirt. I really need to do some laundry. Maybe I could do some at Celine's sister's house? Kill two birds with one stone. I reply to her message, asking if using the washer and dryer would be out of the question. She replies, Bring your stinky clothes, and I'll do your laundry as payback . I counter-reply with Pussy is payback. Laundry I can manage on my own.
Pulling all my dark clothes out of the hamper, I stuff them into my gym bag and lumber to my car. The air is cool, which wakes me up from my evening drowsiness. I toss the bag into my trunk and climb into my car, tapping the address into Google Maps.
Celine's sister's house is fifteen minutes away in a nice neighborhood of small family homes. Celine's car is in the driveway, but I pull up on the road outside. A wide porch area flanks the front door, with a few nice pots of flowers and shrubbery. Her niece, Lonie, has a plastic playhouse and a trike in the corner.
When I make it off the sidewalk with my bag held high on my shoulder, Celine's standing in the open doorway. She has her hair drawn into a high ponytail with wispy bits framing her face. There's a pen stuck in it and a deep v grooved between her brows. I wait for her to thank me for making the trip, but she doesn't. Instead, as I get close, she presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth and puts out her hands for the bag.
I follow her inside, enjoying the way her ass looks in camel-colored sweatpants. Her feet are bare, and her toes are painted in a light orange, reminding me of her original hair color.
The home is filled with warmth. Family photos are on practically every wall and surface, kiddie paintings spread over the refrigerator, and toys littering the area in front of the TV. Celine has her books spread out over the kitchen island, but she walks past them and into a small side room. "I'll put these into the washer first. Hopefully, there's a fast wash setting so we can get them dried before you leave."
"Your sister won't mind?"
"Marie is grateful that I drop everything whenever she needs me."
I wince as Celine pulls my training clothes out of the bag and stuffs them into the drum. Coach has us working hard, and my stuff is usually wet by the time I'm done. Wet and stinky. "Doesn't your mom do this stuff for you?" she asks.
I don't reply because telling Celine anything about my family is off tonight's agenda. "This is a nice house. Has your sister lived here long?"
Celine twists to look at me, then stands to shut the washer door. "A couple of years. They moved here when she was pregnant with Lonie. They wanted a yard for her to play in."
Her boobs look good in her white V-neck shirt. It shows off her creamy cleavage, dusted with pretty freckles.
"Makes sense."
I saunter back into the kitchen and take a seat on a stool next to the one Celine vacated to open the door.
"So, tell me what you need."
She takes a seat and begins to explain the areas of confusion. It's nothing I find difficult, so I do my best to go through each point step by step. She takes notes in scribbled handwriting that I struggle to read. Maybe that's her problem. She can't read her own writing.
After thirty minutes, I see her eyes light up. "Oh my god, I get it."
I shrug one shoulder and then stretch my arms over my head, leaning so my spine bends and my back cracks. My body aches from training, but the ache in my balls is something else entirely. That's good. You ready to fuck now?"
Her narrowed gaze only narrows further when I snort. I make my pecs jump, first one, then the other, knowing it's a douche move that is going to piss her off.
It does.
"Can you chill out? My niece is asleep upstairs."
"Is she in a crib?"
"Yes." Confusion clouds her expression.
"So, she can't come down."
"Elias. I’m not fucking you on my sister's couch."
"You're obviously not an experienced babysitter, Celine. That's the standard protocol for every babysitter I've ever had."
"You fucked your babysitters?" The horror she feels makes her mouth drop open.
"Not the old ones. Fuck, that's gross. The hot ones, sure."
"How old were you?"
"I don't know…twelve…thirteen. Not old enough to stay at home by myself."
Her hand flies to her mouth. "You fucked your babysitter when you were twelve? Had you even gone through puberty?"
I shrug. I don't remember when I became capable of fucking. The first time was an accident. Our neighbor, Justine, came over when Mom had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. She was fifteen, and we hung out together on the sofa. We put the TV on, and there is a film that must have been rated way above our age. Somehow, we ended up fumbling around, and I ended up sticking my dick between her legs.
I remember feeling like I was in a dream. Afterward, she arranged her clothes, and we sat next to each other like nothing happened.
Her family moved that fall, and looking back, I wonder how she was so cool about what we did. Most likely, something bad was going on in her house. Looking back, the signs seem clear, but at the time, I was stuck in my head and swamped by my own problems. I don't tell Celine any of it.
"She was horny. I was horny. The rest is history."
In the other room, the washer beeps its finale, and Celine slides off her stool. "I didn't offer you a drink," she says. "Help yourself while I move the stuff into the dryer." She points to the refrigerator, so that's where I head. It's filled with fruits and vegetables, healthy smoothies, and glass containers of home-cooked food. I search for a soda, but there are only expensive brands of fizzy water or juice. I opt for juice. I'm pouring it into a glass when the front door opens, and a woman who's a double of Celine, when she had red hair, strolls into the kitchen.
"Oh, hi!"
"Hey." I lower the juice carton. "I'm Elias. Celine's friend. She's in the laundry room."
"She is?" Her brows quirk in surprise. I guess Celine isn't usually a domestic goddess when she babysits for her sister. "I'm Marie. And this is Aiden."
A big dude, with brown hair and a reddish beard, lumbers behind Marie, surveying his home and the invader in it with suspicious eyes.
"Hi." I step forward to do the manly handshake thing, making sure to offer a firm grip so he doesn't think I'm a pussy. "Celine needed help with her work."
I indicate our study material with a sweep of my hand. Marie snorts. "Of course she did."
My eyebrow jumps, and I shove my hands in my pockets, wondering what she knows and what she's assuming. Maybe Celine told her everything about what's been going on between us. Maybe she's spilled the whole sordid foursome thing. Or perhaps Marie's just assuming I'm here to hit the babysitter's ass like in all the teen movies.
"Marie. You're back earlier than I expected." Celine emerges from the laundry room to the sound of the dryer beginning to turn.
"What are you drying?" Marie asks, her expression quizzical.
"Elias's laundry. It's payment for the lending of his genius."
Aiden's expression is amused. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Marie's eyes drift to where my junk is outlined against my gray sweatpants. She's so like Celine that I can't stop staring.
"Leave him alone." Celine drags me by the arm and pushes me gently back onto the seat. "He's really helping me. In fact, he might be the only thing standing between me and the life of a college dropout."
"Get this man a drink." Aiden pats me on the back, reaching into a cupboard for a bottle of whiskey that looks like the good stuff. "Marie's on a health kick, so beer's out, but this is the stuff for special occasions." He raises it high like we should all worship its greatness. I'm not really feeling whiskey, but the dude's just been to visit his sick mom in hospital, so if he needs a drink, I'm gonna drink with him.
He pours what looks like a double and hands it to me. "Cheers, man," I say, lifting the glass and taking a swig. I can tell this is good stuff. It's warm and oaky in my mouth and slides like lava down my throat.
"Don't get him drunk," Celine says. "How will he help me with my work if he's drunk?"
"I can do a lot when I'm drunk."
Aiden and Marie snicker and Celine shakes her head. "You know what. I think I'm good. I had a eureka moment before I pulled your boxers out of the washer."
She shuts her books and stacks them in a pile. I lower the drink, wondering if she's hinting that I should leave. "How's your mom, Aiden?"
Marie answers for her husband. "She's definitely turned a corner. She had some color in her cheeks."
"That's good." Celine nods, then fixes me with her pretty eyes. "Want to hang out while your underwear dries?"
"It's not just underwear." I feel my cheeks heat. It's stupid to feel embarrassed that my personal items are going round and round in this dude's dryer. It's not like he caught me fucking his wife.
"Sure."
"I'll put out some snacks." Marie opens a huge cupboard door and begins pulling out bags of healthy chips and popcorn. She empties them into bowls and then chops apples, strawberries, and plums, placing them alongside.
Celine takes the tray into the seating area and places it on a low coffee table. I drift behind her, unsure of where to put myself. She flops onto the sofa and grabs the remote. "You can take the weight off." Pointing at the space next to her, she smiles at my uncertainty. I take a seat, sinking against the plush throw pillows. Damn, this couch is comfortable.
Aiden and Marie carry some glasses and a jug of what looks like fresh iced tea into the den and flop onto the couch next to ours. Celine finds a standup comedy special and grasps a handful of popcorn, tossing it into her mouth.
I don't know how it happened, but I've slipped into a scene of domesticity with a girl I'm not even dating.
"This one's fucking hilarious," Aiden says. "Have you seen it, Elias?"
"Nah, man."
"Watch this. His jokes are off the charts."
The comedian is funny as fuck, and I find myself munching on sweet apple, and spicy lentil chips, laughing along with Celine and her family. It's kind of cozy and easy, and I forget why I'm here. I don't notice the beeps of the dryer coming to the end of its cycle, and neither does Celine. We laugh so much that my belly aches, and Celine's freckled cheeks are pink.
In the end, Lonie's cries on the baby monitor prompt me to look at the time on my phone. It's eleven pm and way past the time I should be hanging out at two strangers' house on a weeknight.
"I should get going," I say as Marie jogs up the stairs.
"Yeah. Me, too." Celine rises as I do, so much smaller than me when we're standing close. The red in her hair is just growing through at the root and my fingers itch to touch it. She's the same girl, but different since she covered it with brown.
"I need to grab my stuff."
She leads me into the laundry room, and we quickly share the folding responsibility. Everything smells fresh, and I'm relieved to have something clean to throw on for tomorrow's classes.
"I had fun." She places my last pair of boxers into my bag.
"Me, too." I lift the bag onto my shoulder and watch her hesitate with what to say next. It's on the tip of my tongue to say something crass, like 'it would have been more fun if we were naked,' but surprisingly, I keep my mouth shut.
Celine does, too. Her eyes drift from me to the door and I take the hint. In the kitchen, Aiden is clearing up the dirty glasses and loading them into the dishwasher. Celine gathers her books, shoving them into a black tote. She kisses Aiden's cheek and tells him to say bye to Marie for her.
"Thanks, man," I say.
Aiden wipes his hands on a cloth and shakes mine again. "It was good to meet you, Elias."
He's not much older than me, but the gulf between us is wide.
Travis would probably feel totally at home hanging out with Celine's family. And most likely, Dornan would as well.
"Yeah. You, too."
At the front door, I hold it open for Celine and follow her to her car. "Thanks for helping me," she says. On tiptoes, she presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth like she's not sure where we stand. I cup the side of her face and pull her into a deep and searing kiss that I've been craving for hours. She makes a sweet squeak of shock but rests her hands on my chest and goes with it.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
This thing is messy. Celine is rebounding hard. Dornan and Travis lurk around every corner. She's using me for my dick and my brain. That's it.
I don't fit into this world of happy families.
Nothing about this thing between us works, but I still have this craving that I squash, leaving her wet-mouthed and wanting in her sister's driveway as I toss my bag into the trunk and drive off into the night.